Festival
by Nisa-Nii
Summary: At Finnian's request Ciel accompanies him to the local festival; be it his luck that the man working in the knife throwing section doesn't know how to keep his hands to himself. Modern AU short. SebasCiel.


**Author notes: This was an old idea from nearly five years ago but I've long since lost the file and with the new release of "Kuroshitsuji:Book of Circus" I felt the need to attempt it again. Not proof-read by a beta, so if you find mistakes don't hesitate to point them out.**

**Warnings: slight swearing, invading personal space, OOCness, modern AU.**

**Suggested song: "The Walk" by Imogen Heap**

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It was a yearly ritual in the small northern town in which Ciel Phantomhive lived for the travelling festival celebrating the countryside's rich history- otherwise known to Ciel as the yearly cesspool of inbred human mongrels to arrive on a stuffy Thursday evening in late June and open their grounds by Friday afternoon. It would continue through the following Saturday and Sunday morning when they would then pack up all their cheap rides, disgusting foods and unwashed travelers and leave for their next destination. It was a breeding ground for the distasteful habits of the city's street scum and was a known meeting place for many an attendee from the local public schools to gather and brawl as there was a shocking shortage of police in the area despite it being a "family event."

Ciel had abhorred the whole thing since he could remember, but Finnian had gazed at him so imploringly as he begged for accompaniment to retrieve fried cheese from one of the stands that it tugged even on _his_ black little heartstrings. One of the dumbest things you could do was throw yourself into that thicket alone. It would be terrible manners of a friend to ignore the plea. Plus, Finnian's promise to buy him the new confectionery treat from the sweet shop uptown he liked so much didn't hurt his case either.

With a clear blue sky and an already visible sheen of sweat on their brow the two left from the blonde's house and made for the recreational park where the event set their stage every year. That Friday afternoon was hot and muggy and Ciel was never afraid to sound whiny. It didn't hinder Finnian's smile, however. Ciel found he didn't mind his company so much- he kept him around for a reason, he supposed. Finny chatted the most of the walk but, unlike with most, the boy's enthusiasm and constant need to speak didn't completely grate on his nerves. When they arrived the whole area was over crowded with well-worn young adults of questionable occupations and possessions, sharing cigarettes and attempting to hide alcoholic beverages in less than creative ways and screaming "fuck you" in one another's faces as if there weren't decent families with young children in the vicinity trying to enjoy their evening. Ciel didn't bother to mask his disgust as he watched vendors tend to their grease-riddled products of an equally questionable nature. Why Finny had wanted to go so badly was a complete enigma to him.

"It's nice to get out, sometimes. Besides I think the fresh air will do you good. You've been hiding in your room since graduation." The blonde beamed.

"Cigarette smoke and grease isn't fresh air."

"It could be fun. We can go to the historical-demonstration side."

Ciel didn't entirely hate the idea and Finnian took his hesitation as his acquiescence. He reasoned that they were already there and the demonstration side of the festivities should be less crowded and at least somewhat more pleasant. They had actual tents rather than just vendors- perhaps there was even some form of real A/C as well. One could only hope. The historical-demonstration side was set up closest to the pond. A circle of tents manned by men, women and children dressed to the nine's in the clothes of their ancestors as they attempted to sell their wares; homemade soaps and candles, chocolates, trinkets to be worn, clothing made of coarse cloth and animal fur, small wooden instruments. Costumed men preformed dances hourly while others put on shows like wood carving. While not nearly as damnable as the sections full of rigged carnival games, unionized food vendors and shaky kiddy rides that were most likely missing a bolt or two, Ciel still found the whole ordeal dingy and vowed to bath himself in disinfectant upon his return home.

"What should we look at first?" Finny was focused on an older man with a beard shaping a wooden flute from a small branch but it didn't hold Ciel's attention for long. He had seen the method before on the one other occasion he had been to the festival with his parents. There was a reason they, new arrivals to the town, had never returned to partake in the yearly celebration.

It was still early in the afternoon and Ciel felt himself nearly sway with the heat and the sun reflecting on the surface of the ever moving water, but that was when he saw it- _there._ Near the water's edge. There was a small crowd gathered closely, watching something intently. No tents seemed present from what he could see at that distance, but the area appeared roped off. Ciel was sure he saw a mangled target facing the gaggle of spectators.

"Let's go there," Ciel pointed. Finnian eyes followed the gesture as he squinted into the sinking sun.

"I think that's knife throwing."

Ciel shrugged. "If not entertaining at least the area is shaded. And perhaps we'll get to see some town idiot injure himself trying to show off."

That's terrible, Finny told him, followed by a laugh as he set the pace across the open field. He probably thought Ciel didn't mean it. Finnian always thought the best of people.

A few customers had wandered away but the area still seemed lively. The section was roped off as Ciel had thought; a line of people stood just behind the thin barrier, cheering and hooting with laughter as a man within the confines of the cable with what appeared to be two workers attempted to sink one of the daggers he was being handed into the wooden target propped against a tree trunk. Each dagger fell many feet short of its desired destination. Some pulled too far left, some too far right. The man was red-faced with exertion.

"This is so cool! I always wanted to learn knife throwing," Finny gushed as the defeated man stepped out of the square and set off with most of the crowd in tow. The blonde carnie stooped to collect the fallen instruments as the dark haired one turned to address what was left of the crowd, Finnian and Ciel included.

"Any other takers?" He asked with a wide, sweeping gesture of his arms. A pair of young girls off to the side were looking at the man then back at each other. Their tittering laughter was like metal scraping metal to Ciel's ears. The man took a step closer, his gaze insinuating and fixed on the two flushed girls in a way that felt too personal for public viewing. His crooked smile widened. "It's not as hard as it looks, I promise. Perhaps I can give some personal lessons if it proves to be too difficult." The girls giggled to each other again, louder this time, and a thoroughly annoyed Ciel turned to leave- but Finnian caught his sleeve in his unnatural death grip and clung.

"We'd like to!" Finnian raised his free hand above his head, waving it to get the two men's attention. Between the blonde man assisting at the station chiding him for hitting on customers and the two girls wandering away as Finny interjected, the dark haired man looked rather put-out. The look was quickly gone, however, and the smirk was back in its place like an actor slipping on his mask. His eyes landed on Ciel as he beckoned them closer and it widened to a toothy grin. Ciel wasn't sure what he was smiling about, but something inside him wanted to wipe that look off of his face. It was annoying.

"Come on up," the dark haired man's companion invited. His smile seemed genuine but it didn't make Ciel want to participate anymore than the man with the dumb smirk did. He did earnestly attempt to pull back, sputtering some nonsense and ending it with a polite "no thank you" just as mommy and daddy had taught him, but Finnian's grip was iron and it took the blonde no effort drag him forward. The dark haired man was still smiling in that off-putting way as though he was eternally amused by Ciel's plight.

As the blonde- Dagger, he had introduced himself- explained to Finnian how to properly hold and release the specialized knives, Ciel hung back in an attempt to subtly make his escape. Surely Finny could find him over with the homemade soaps or dodging flocks of irritable geese around the water's edge. The dark haired assistant was having none of that, however, and made sure to cut off his path as he pretended to nonchalantly began to polish and rearrange the instruments left on the viewing table.

Ciel had the sudden urge to just kick him in the shins and walk away. Violence wasn't exactly below him.

"What's your name?"

The tone was friendly but it didn't put Ciel in any better of a temperament. His voice was deep and smooth, speaking volumes of his superior age, and he didn't even have the decency to look at Ciel when he addressed him. His earlier irritation bloomed in his chest like a wilting flower brought to back to life. The man's eyes flicked up after a moment of silence but quickly returned to the dagger and cloth in his hands. If Ciel had been less embarrassed of watching him he would have noticed that little mischievous up-turned corner of his mouth. "What's your name, _kid_?"

Finnian over shot two of his throws; they landed in the lake, sinking below the glittering surface. Dagger was pretending he wasn't upset at losing two of his personal possessions as Ciel focused on hiding the physical manifestation of his irritation on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He knew the crimson staining his skin was visible, though, and cursed. He really shouldn't take the bait-

"I don't think eighteen years old and attending college constitutes me as a '_kid_' if you wouldn't mind being such an assumptive prat." Ciel forced himself to look at the man despite his better judgment. He seemed to be standing closer than before; Ciel could finally make out the strange rustic color of his almond-shaped eyes and the purple lines of make-up placed over one cheek and eye in an attempt to look festive. Ciel found himself studying the full curve of the man's lower lip, the crooked smile, and immediately found himself grinding his teeth in frustration thereafter. The fuck was it about this guy. "And it's Ciel," he finally relented.

Ciel had always had a very dainty, feminine appearance growing up. He was often complimented for his large blue eyes or long lashes or unnerving grace or soft voice. His parent's acquaintances and business partners always gushed about how wonderful his foreign name was, his mother blushing and admitting it's tribute to her French roots. On more than one occasion he had been called "beautiful" and had always taken the admiration acceptingly. Having grown so used to praise in his social elitist life it threw Ciel through a loop to have this stranger- a town hopping _carnie_ nonetheless- turn to him and without hesitation, ask, "Isn't that a girl's name?"

Ciel felt his face flush, the tips of his ears burning. "_Excuse me_?"

"Alright, Celly- you're turn!" Finnian came bounding over as Dagger followed after, looking worse for wear. When Finny placed one of the knives into Ciel's hand the smaller boy automatically recoiled and handed it back.

"No."

Despite the angry tone and flustered look full of code Finnian was given, none of it registered. He simply pressed forward, green eyes bright and wide, and insisted that it was worth a try. It would be fun. Dagger gently coaxed him forward, repeating the other man's words from earlier, "It's not as hard as it looks, promise."

Ciel found himself standing a good ten feet away from the target behind a white line spray painted in the grass. Dagger stood next to him, miming a throwing action and encouraging him to give it a try. Finnian warned him not to throw it too hard and blushed with embarrassment at his earlier blunder. Resolved to get the whole ordeal over with as quickly as possible and return home Ciel followed Dagger's lead. Muscles tensed, feet apart, Ciel brought the knife back behind him and shot it forward with as much strength as his slender arm would allow. It arced inelegantly and tumbled to the grass, having hardly travelled far at all.

The second and third attempt fared no better and with rosy cheeks returning Ciel was glad to leave. He had thought it odd that the man from before had stayed silent for so long- he seemed the type to make rude commentary to simply goad a rise- but as Ciel turned to demand that they take their leave he found his reason why the silence had been pressing. The dark haired man was doubled over behind the show table as he attempted to conceal his laughter behind gloved hands. His whole frame shook from the mere force of it. The blooming flower in Ciel's chest sprout forth again, a whole curling vine this time around.

"You did great," Finnian consoled. His friend's affections did nothing to soothe his anger, however. Dagger attempted to apologize on the other man's behalf but Ciel paid him no more mind than he did Finny in that moment. When the dark haired assistant realized that he had been caught, he straightened and at least tried to compose himself. Ciel wouldn't admit aloud that he was impressed with how the stranger didn't even flinch under Ciel's infamous glare. He had seen grown men run and hide for far less, cowering at his name alone.

"Pardon, _Ciel_," The name was dripping with smugness as he stooped to gather the instruments Ciel had flung and return them to the table. Every movement the man made was elegant and precise and it only served to piss Ciel off further. "You're terrible at this. Your form is awful. And those knives are definitely too heavy for you."

Dagger was giving him a verbal warning to stop bothering the customers- Ciel obviously looked uncomfortable- but the infuriating older man hardly paid mind to the strained politeness his partner was exuding. He was focused on the display table, running his hands over the immaculately carved handles of each knife before his fingertips came to rest on one in particular; it was dainty and light and seemed to float as Sebastian expertly tossed it from one hand to the other to test the weight balance. Once convinced that it was appropriate for his petit customer he returned to the glowering boy's side. Finnian was still apologizing to Dagger for accidentally chucking some of Dagger's favourite knives into the pond- neither even so much as looked in their direction, Finny nearly in tears.

The man- he still had yet to catch the bastard's name- pressed the small hilt into Ciel's hand but he didn't disconnect their touch there; too quick for Ciel to even register and react he was spun around to face the target once again but this time the man was directly behind him. He was close enough for Ciel to redden and quake at the body heat against his back. He was never one to find comfort in close proximity but he equally never backed down from a challenge. His pride steeled his nerves as he forced his feet back into position and tried to loosen his shoulders, hoping the stranger wouldn't notice his anxieties. If the sly way the dark haired man's fingers curled around Ciel's own hand holding the knife was anything to go by, he surely noticed.

"You're not throwing it right," He restated. His voice was so close to his ear he felt his breath ghost over him. His spine shivered in response. He was sure he could _hear_ the man's smirk at this point and there was a war between disgust and intrigue in his chest cavity. "You need more range." Ciel simply remained silent as the guy took it upon himself to move Ciel's arms rather than give instruction. He nudged Ciel's shoes further apart on the grass and pulled his shoulders back to straighten his posture. He was definitely invading Ciel's personal space at that point; he could feel the slight contours of his body beneath his shirt pressed into Ciel's shoulder blades. His hands warmed his arms and hands despite the cloth barriers that prevented skin on skin contact- so close but never really meeting. The curling vines of displeasure in his heart bloomed into something completely different as he registered the sensation of the man's cheek brush past his hair, almost a slight nuzzle- all of his movements were gentle, contemplated. He was treating him as though he was fragile, Ciel realized. The desire to learn his name nearly overpowered his earlier annoyance- _nearly_.

When he finally uncoiled his muscles and threw the dagger at the other man's urging he was sure he felt his strange companion add his own strength to the movement. But he found himself too transfixed with watching the blade carve its way into the oddly human-shaped wooden target to accuse the man of cheating. The vague shapes of the board hinted at a clean head-shot.

Ciel lowered his hand but the man had yet to step away. Finnian was cheering for him on the sidelines. Dagger was giving his own encouragement. Part of Ciel was imploring them to come and whisk him away from the over-zealous stranger, the other parts unequal measures of intrigue and contentment that left a peculiar stuttering heartbeat behind his ribs. Ciel realized that the man was waiting for him to say something in return for his assistance- perhaps a "thank you" or some exclamation at how talented he was. His lips remained sealed, not even turning to look in his face as he felt the taller man's frame roil with sarcastic laughter against his back. His scowl deepened.

"I love prideful little shits like you."

Ciel was glad his face was out of view- he was sure he was gaping unattractively in offense at the man's bluntness. Quickly trying to recover, he "harrumphed" disdainfully and tried to appear unruffled though he could feel his heartbeat thunder through every cell in his body, painting his porcelain skin a tell-tale shade of carmine. His stomach was uneasy but he couldn't quite place the feeling. "What's your name, anyway?" He snapped. He hoped he sounded bored enough to mask his true curiosity. The man had the gall to lean down, the full lips he had been caught studying earlier nearly flush to his ear. If he wasn't frozen where he stood before he was surely mimicking Hans Solo perfectly now.

"It's _Sebastian_." He had purposefully lowered his voice to a sultry whisper, the fucker. Who did that to someone they just met? Was this man mental? Ciel felt the gloved fingers wrapped around his left bicep contract as they tightened then loosened their grip and ever so subtly slid down to the crook of his elbow. The small shift felt personal and oddly intoxicating and Ciel was hyper-aware of every single plane on which their bodies met; he didn't want to think too long on what the gesture was supposed to mean. He had already indulged the bastard enough.

He didn't think Finnian or Dagger had caught their private exchange, but just to be a brat Ciel made sure to make a show of pulling his arm out of Sebastian's hold in hopes that Dagger would catch on and berate the infuriating man after their departure. He wasn't about to let the smug shit get away with feeling him up in public.

Dagger was complimenting him on his final attempt- _if you keep working at it you could probably become a pro_- and Finnian was claiming starvation and listing possible food-related pit stops to entice Ciel out to dinner, but Ciel found himself not quite mentally following it all, as though daydreaming. His hand kept straying to his left arm, fingers lingering on the fabric that had been assaulted. His anger had grown, but so had his curiosity. Just what kind of man was Sebastian? Motives had always garnered his interests but Ciel could not find Sebastian's reasoning written as plainly on his face as he could with others. Another line to add to the list of things that angered him.

As the two took their leave another customer stepped up to give the ordeal a try. Sebastian busied himself with retrieving the weapons and organizing them for their next use as Dagger bid them a good evening. "Come again, we're here all weekend!" Dagger called after them with a wave. Finnian waved back and smiled, sweet as ever. Ciel was sure his expression was caught somewhere between thunderous and contemplative. He swore under his breath to not look back, to not give the man the pleasure, but as he stepped outside of the rope and they set off towards the hill in search of sustenance that was not deep fried, he just couldn't help himself.

Sebastian had paused in his efforts, watching them depart from over his shoulder with a small smile. Ciel would have almost called it genuine. The strangeness in his chest bloomed into a full garden as their eyes met, neither looking away for a long moment. With an agitated sneer Ciel resumed facing forward as Finny suggested they eat at the café with the cream cake Ciel had always been fond of.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" Finny asked brightly from over his cup of soda. The two had snagged a small, two-seat table near the back. With the festival in town the place was mostly dead, and Ciel was thankful for the quiet and proper A/C, sprawling across the cushioned chair and sighing contentedly as he finished off his slice of cake.

"Could have been worse, I suppose."

Finny laughed, knowing that was the best answer he would be getting from the younger boy. "I'm off work tomorrow, too. You wanna do somethin'? We can go see a movie with Meirin or maybe go see Bard at the shop."

Ciel contemplated his friend's offer, sipping thoughtfully at his tea. His whole weekend was available as it was still only June. There was an endless sea of options on how to spend the time... With the surety only a Phantomhive could obtain Ciel set the glass aside, meeting Finny's gaze over the table with an almost sincere smile that he prayed didn't betray the true feelings that had taken hold in his breast.

"Let's go to the festival."

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**Review Question: Have you kept up on "Book of Circus?" If so, what's your opinion on it?**


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